


Personal Demonstration

by AlexKingOfTheDamned, swimsalot



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Embarrassment, M/M, Rimming, Sex Toys, Vibrators, Virginity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-31
Updated: 2014-09-07
Packaged: 2018-02-15 12:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,545
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2229093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlexKingOfTheDamned/pseuds/AlexKingOfTheDamned, https://archiveofourown.org/users/swimsalot/pseuds/swimsalot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Misha's sex toy doesn't work quite right, but he can never bring himself to ask for help from the handsome man inside the shop.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> A few notes, 
> 
> A) I'm sorry that Medic is a little ooc.... it's really hard to maintain how psycho he is in normal!au's
> 
> B) I'm sorry if you disagree with the name I gave Medic, but given that it's a normal AU, they can't go by their titles
> 
> Carry on~

 

Third time's the charm right? At least that's what Misha is hoping as he approaches the solid wood door of the windowless shop for the third time that week. He'd come by the first time hoping to ask for help with a product he'd ordered off line but had turned and run the moment he saw the man at the counter. The second time he'd returned hoping it wouldn't be his shift again and someone younger and less attractive, possibly female, would be working instead.

 

No such luck.

 

So again today he'd taken the bus, the object in question hidden at the bottom of his backpack, and done a few loops around the block to work up his courage and wait for the streets to be clear before heading for the shop.

 

He yanks the door open harder than he means to in his haste and it slams back against the wall, making him wince at having drawn so much attention to himself already. nervously he glances around the shop and is pleased to see it surprisingly empty. No one at the counter. The attractive older man isn't there to scare him away. Maybe today his luck will have finally turned.

 

Upon hearing the door slam open in the front, the man stocking the back of the shop jumps in alarm. He fumbles the stack of boxes he’d been carrying and drops several of them with a muttered curse word.

 

Worried that it’s another angry parent bringing their minor in to yell at him for their child’s purchase – as though it’s somehow his fault – the owner takes a moment to straighten himself out to look completely professional, and steps through the strings of blood red beads that segregate the shelves from the front store.

 

He sees a very large man standing very awkwardly in the middle of the shop, actively trying to avoid touching anything. He’s bundled up in a big wooly hat with a pompom and fur-lined coat, mittens on his hands the size of oven mitts, all to protect him against the brisk December air outside.

 

“Can I help you, sir?” the man asks, pushing his spectacles higher up on his nose with a smile. The man before him is enormous, but if he actually looks at his face, he couldn’t possibly be out of his twenties.

 

Misha jumps at the German accent, having been looking anxiously at a few whips hanging nearby when he entered. Slowly he turns his gaze to the shop worker, only to have his breath catch in his throat and his heart begin to pound painfully in his chest.

 

It's him. He's still here. The cashier from the last two days. The beautiful dark haired older man who for some reason works in a sex shop when he should be modeling for the kinds of nude magazines at the front of the store.

 

And worse, he's already said something to the large Russian. It's not as if he can turn and run now.

 

The two of them stand there for a minute in a stalemate. The shop owner’s brows furrow after ten seconds of silence tick by on the penis-shaped clock behind the giant man’s head.

 

“Can… I help you?” the German ventures again, this time in English. Maybe the man’s a tourist and doesn’t speak German.

 

"I...I have question." Misha stammers, transitioning quickly back to German. His German is better than his English. He can feel his face turning bright red. This isn't good. He can't do this. He should run.

 

Russian, the shop owner notes. So probably a tourist.

 

“I hope your question is sex-based,” he says, trying to lighten the mood to put the nervous Russian at ease. “Because if you’re looking for zhe bus schedule you’ve come to zhe wrong place.”

 

"It is, it is," Misha says, stripping off his hat and gloves. It's much too warm in here suddenly. "I have question about... well it is sensitive topic. Personal. Is there some sort of book? Guide book for sex toys? If so I will pay and leave now."

 

“Vell, zhere are specific books for different kinds of toys. Did you make a purchase?” The shop owner lifts part of the counter so he can come out from behind it.

 

Misha nods, looking away. He takes a step back, putting more space between himself and the cashier.

 

"Bought it online," he mutters. This is ridiculous. Plenty of young men have sex toys. Not exactly like his but they do. He shouldn't be so embarrassed. But he can't help it. Not with this man staring at him.

 

“Did you bring it vith you?” the man walks past Misha and opens a narrow wooden door with a sign that says ‘do not enter unless accompanied by owner,’ and gestures for Misha to go inside. It’s just a small room with a book shelf full of sex manuals and DVDs, with a nice couch, plush carpet and a matching arm chair. It looks like a therapist’s office.

 

"I...da." Misha says, taking off his backpack and holding it out to the man. It's almost entirely empty except for his student id and the offending object. "Is inside."

 

The shop owner gives Misha an amused smile before opened the pack and taking out a long, thin object wrapped in brown paper. Setting the bag down, he sits in the arm chair and gestures for Misha to sit on the couch.

 

“Zhis is just for privacy. A lot of customers feel embarrassed vhen zhey need help, it’s normal,” he says, indicating the Russian’s pink cheeks. “My name is Erik, by zhe vay.”

 

He unwraps the object and his expression doesn’t change at all at the sight of the bright pink, clear vibrator with attached clitoris stimulator. He notes that Misha looks away in shame.

 

“So vhat is your question?” Erik asks, folding his hands in his lap, almost cradling the device. “Did you try to use it vith your girlfriend?”

 

"N-no," Misha says, more nervous than ever. "Do not have girlfriend. Bought it for myself. But do not know what that part is for." he extends a finger towards the clitoris stimulator.

 

Erik’s eyes widen behind his glasses and he is obviously trying not to smile. “For yourself?” he repeats. “Did you by any chance look at zhe description of zhe product? Or did you just go to zhe website and buy zhe first item on zhe page?”

 

"Website was in English!" Misha says loudly, nearly in tears from his embarrassment. He wants to get up and run, leave the damn dildo here and never see it or the beautiful man again. "My English is not so good. Have never been good at languages, this is why I am Engineering and philosophy student. Understood the word dildo and thought color was cute so I bought it. What did I do wrong?"

 

“It’s okay,” Erik lifts his hands defensively with a smile. “You don’t need to be ashamed, my friend. What you’ve purchased here is a dildo specifically for women. This extra nub is for stimulating zhe clitoris. I can imagine you had some difficulty positioning it vith zhis extra anatomy. If you’d like to return it, I can give you a full refund. Or, you can exchange it for a product of zhe same value. I could take you in zhe back and you could pick out something new zhat vould suit you better. A man of your… size, probably shouldn’t be using a six-inch anyway.”

 

"Will just return. Is pointless, should not be buying toys like this anyway," Misha mutters, reaching for his bag. He can't believe how calm this man is. He's so blunt about all of this, it's only making Misha more uncomfortable with his own inexperience.

 

“Hey,” Erik puts his hand on Misha’s wrist to still him. Misha pulls his hand back like he was burned. “You don’t need to feel embarrassed about your own sexuality. Obviously I can’t tell you to buy sex toys, but barring zhat you’re a minor or a monk, zhere’s no reason for you not to buy zhem. Vhat are you afraid of?”

 

Misha looks down in shame. There's no way this man, this beautiful, calm, well spoken man, can understand. He's probably had boys and girls falling all over him his entire life, wooed by his good looks and charm. He'll never understand that Misha had bought the dildo in a moment of sad desperation after being turned down, yet again, by a boy in his class who was intimidated by his size.

 

"It is stupid. I do not need it. Will go back to having orgasm old fashioned way," he mutters, shrugging large, heavy shoulders.

 

“If you honestly don’t vant it, zhen I can give you a full refund. But I encourage you to reconsider. I could match you up vith exactly zhe kind of toy you’re looking for,” Erik says, wrapping the toy back in the brown paper. “I could even give you a short lesson on how properly to use it.”

 

That has Misha shooting out of his chair, his face as red as his favorite shirt. Erik can't be suggesting what he thinks he's suggesting, can he?

 

"Does not seem appropriate," he says, his voice half an octave higher than usual

 

“Appropriate? It’s perfectly professional, I promise,” Erik gives the younger man a smile. “I have another room just for demonstrations. Free of charge.”

 

"This is okay?" Misha asks, words tripping over each other. "Is allowed? You are sure?"

 

“Absolutely,” Erik smiles. “Vould you like to do zhat?” Misha hesitantly nods, his heart thundering in his chest. “Great! Follow me, please.”

 

He hands the Russian’s bag back to him and leads him through the shop, and holds the beads open in the back for the larger man to lumber through.

 

“So, tell me,” Erik says once he’s led Misha over to the section in the price range of the toy he’d originally bought. “Vhat are you looking for in a toy?”

 

"Something for beginner." Misha says softly. "I have never done this before. Have never been with man like that."

 

“Vhat sort of dimensions do you vant?” Erik continues to ask questions, slowly narrowing down to exactly what Misha is looking for.

 

The length, the girth, if he wants it to vibrate, spin or thrust, multiple speeds or not, questions that just keep making Misha go redder and redder. He’s never had to think about these things before, and the ease with which Erik can talk about them makes him wonder if maybe it really is okay to be comfortable with one’s own sexuality.

 

Finally, they come to an easy-to-use, two-speed, eight inch silicone length that doesn’t resemble a penis, but definitely gets the job done, with an impressive girth and a pleasant light purple color, all in Misha’s price range.

Then it's time to go to the _back_ back room for the demonstration. By this time Misha is pretty sure he's going to cry again, though whether it’s from fear, simply being overwhelmed, or joy at what lies ahead he isn't entirely sure.

 

Inside is a simple wooden table, and two chairs. Confused, he takes a seat in one and Erik stands at the other side. Carefully, he removes the packaging without damaging it so Misha will have something to carry the device home in, and opens the top drawer of the small cabinet to the left, producing two AA batteries that he inserts into the base of the toy.

 

He launches into a brief description of how to turn on the device, which end of the switch means what, and which condoms will fit the device if Misha doesn’t want to have to clean it every time he uses it. It doesn’t take long for the Russian to realize that when he’d said “lesson” he didn’t mean that he was going to give hands-on instruction.

 

At first this comes as a relief. This isn't exactly how he'd imagined his first intimate encounter with a man, after all. He'd pictured something a little more romantic than the back room of a porn shop. But he would have taken whatever he could get, which is a little sad.

 

But after the initial relief comes a wave of disappointment. Erik is lovely and clearly smart and kind and confident. Misha would be lucky to have a chance at even a one night stand in a closet in a porn palace with someone like him. But clearly that isn't going to happen.

 

His discontent is very clear on his features. Erik sees the younger man slump and frown after only a minute, and his eyes go unfocused. Erik’s hands still and he stops talking, but it’s at least thirty seconds before the young man snaps out of his daydream and realizes that the shop owner has stopped talking.

 

“Is over?” he asks, looking up at the suspicious smile of the older man.

 

“No, you vere just dozing. I didn’t think zhis vas _zhat_ boring,” Erik teases.

 

"Is not boring!" Misha says quickly. "Was thinking. And you speak very fast. My German not so good. Got a little lost. Do not learn sex words in high school German classes."

 

Erik gives the younger man a knowing smile. “Do you vant me to continue?” he asks. “Or would you prefer I take you out for dinner and give you a more personal demonstration?”

 

Misha's face turns so red it's practically glowing like the neon open sign outside. At first he isn't sure he heard correctly, but there's no denying the smirk on Erik's face.

 

"Da. Would like that," he says sheepishly. It's the last thing he says before scribbling down his phone number and running out of the shop as fast as his legs will carry him.

 

Erik watches him go with a smile. The poor boy left his toy behind.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is fairly lengthy

Erik thought he was too old for dating at this point. He hasn’t been on a date in almost three years. He was married for a while, before she left him, and while he’d only ever had the barest affection for her, he waited the appropriate amount of time after a divorce before trying to date again.

 

His first attempt had been a flop. The instant she found out about his privately owned sex shop, she balked and ran out on him, deciding instantly that he was a pervert.

 

His second attempt had been with a woman older than him, hoping her maturity would bring wisdom that would prevent her from making snap judgments. It didn’t.

 

His third, fourth and fifth tries were with girls in the store, hoping that he’d have more luck starting out with someone who already knew he owned a porn shop. All of the girls were willing to sleep with him fairly immediately, but they were all young and vapid and once they realized he wanted a real relationship, they blocked his number.

 

After that, he sort of gave up for a while, until it occurred to him that now that he was unmarried, he could start to explore his bisexuality that he stifled for so many years in favor of having a wife. This led to a long string of lovers, an HIV scare, two separate black eyes from two separate men, and ultimately, landed him right back where he started.

 

He feels good about this one, though. Better than he has in a long time. With the young man’s forgotten toy in his bag and a clean black sweater pressed on his trim frame, Erik walks to the LGBT-friendly restaurant they decided on over the phone, within walking distance both from Erik’s home, and Misha’s campus.

 

There had been a cute, awkward fumble over the phone when Erik pointed out that Misha never introduced himself in the shop, and he didn’t know the younger man’s name. He likes it, Misha. It softens the man’s otherwise intimidating appearance.

 

He arrives at the restaurant first, and asks for a table for two. When he mentions that it’s a first date, his waiter brings a candle for the table. He sets the discreet plain plastic bag on the floor near his feet and folds his hands to wait.

 

Misha is five minutes late, having gotten lost in his nervousness, going too far and ending up in the wrong restaurant. When he hadn't seen Erik he'd assumed he'd been stood up and turned around to go home. But as he was passing the correct restaurant he saw the shop owner through the window and knew he couldn't leave him sitting there waiting.

 

So he goes inside and makes his way as inconspicuously as possible, a hard feat for a man so large, over to where Erik is sitting.

 

"Good evening. Is good to see you again," he stutters, tripping over the German’s foot as he takes his seat and almost knocking the candle off the table.

 

“Careful,” Erik chuckles as the young man fumbles into the booth which is just barely big enough for him. “Vould you prefer I ask us to be moved to a table? You might be more comfortable.”

 

"No, no. Breaking chair would not be good first impression," Misha says, laughing a little. He tries to suck in his gut, hoping to look more appealing and make himself a little more comfortable at the same time.

 

Erik regards the younger man with his cleanly shaven head and dark red dress shirt tucked haphazardly into black jeans, and thinks that he’s definitely picked a good one.

 

“You forgot your merchandise at zhe shop,” Erik nudges the bag across underneath the table with his foot. But Misha doesn’t have time to reply before the young waitress is by to ask for their drinks.

 

Misha flushes at his choice of a soft drink, it’s so childish compared to the mature choice Erik makes of coffee. But he doesn’t seem to pay any mind to the difference, so Misha tries to put it out of his own.

 

“You said you’re studying engineering,” Erik opens before the young man has a chance to panic about the silence that fell for a few seconds. “Vhat is it you vant to do vith your life?”

 

"Would like to work with military first. Develop weapons. But only if I think they will be used well. Will keep some for myself, to protect citizens if government is corrupt," Misha answers enthusiastically, hoping to impress the other man.

 

Erik’s eyes widen immediately, his mouth evening out into a thin line. “My goodness,” he says, his smile widening as he prickles with excitement. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anybody vith a dream like zhat. How ambitious of you. Do you know how to shoot a gun, zhen? I’ve alvays vanted to shoot a gun.”

 

"Da. Learned when I was younger. Hunted, while I was growing up. We lived in bad place then ended up in very remote home in mountains." Misha explains, grinning. He'd worried they might not have anything to say to each other but they're doing well so far.

 

Erik looks like he’s about to burst with excitement as they talk animatedly about guns for several minutes before the conversation transitions into hunting, and then taxidermy, and when Misha asks about Erik’s bizarre fascination with the process of gutting animals, Erik explains that he graduated med school and that technically he’s _Doctor_ Erik, but he gave that up when there was too much responsibility and not enough experimentation.

 

“So I traded Frankenstein in for Freud,” Erik laughs. “I’m happier in my shop than I’ve ever been. It looks small, but it’s very popular. Most of my foot traffic doesn’t come through until after dinner, though.”

 

"So this is busy time for you." Misha says, starting to get a little nervous. Is he interfering with Erik's work? Should they call it a night so he can go back to the shop? "If you must work, we can go. Can meet for coffee another day if you want."

 

“I have an assistant,” Erik laughs. “Are you so hasty to get rid of me?”

 

"No!" Misha says loudly, his hands falling onto the table with a loud crash that catches the attention of the customers around them. Blushing hotly he lowers his voice and repeats. "No, nothing like that. Is nothing like that. I am worried I am taking up too much of your time."

 

“If I vere too busy for dating, I vouldn’t have asked you out to begin vith,” Erik promises, sliding his hand across the table and up on Misha’s wrist. “You don’t have to be so nervous, you know. I promise I won’t bite. At least not until ve establish a safeword.”

 

Misha's face turns a brighter red than his shirt. This isn't the sort of thing one talks about in public. This kind of talk should be saved for after the date. Maybe after several dates when they really know each other and are well on their way to falling in love...

 

He realizes he still hasn't said anything and hastily clears his throat before answers.

 

"I am sorry. I do not date, is first time in a long time. And you are more mature, and a doctor and very impressive," he says, stumbling over his words as usual. "Sorry."

 

“I’m not a practicing doctor,” Erik supplies, hoping to ease the younger man’s awkward suffering. “I could save your life if you vere dying, but I’m firstly a shopowner.”

 

They order their food and continue to chat throughout their meal. They discover that Erik is more than ten years older than the young college student, much to the older man’s embarrassment.

 

“Look at me,” he’d said, “I’m on a date vith arm candy.”

 

Erik learns about Misha’s three sisters, and gets a short lesson in the Russian language, he knows how to introduce himself after a few miserable tries.

 

Misha learns that Erik is an only child, and that he has a strong interest in anything macabre. A little strange for a doctor-turned-sex shop owner, but it suits him somehow. The manic gleam he gets in his eyes when he talks about classic movie monsters is only a _little_ frightening.

 

They share dessert, and then after-dessert coffee, anything to keep them sitting at the table talking longer. It’s only when they realize that they’ve been sitting there for almost two and a half hours do they finally ask for the check.

 

"I can pay," Misha quickly offers, knowing it’s polite to give the doctor the chance to decline the check. He almost hopes he won't take it because paying for such a large and fancy meal would wipe out his spending money for the month, but he won't make a bad impression by assuming Erik will pay.

 

Luckily for him the doctor does decline his offer like a true gentleman and pays for both their meals. Once the check and tip are settled Erik helps Misha into his coat and leads him across the street to a nearby park that stays open late so couples can enjoy the few stars they can see over the glare of the city lights.

 

They share a companionable silence for a while, before Erik finally broaches the subject they’ve both been thinking about.

 

“I vasn’t joking vhen I said I could give you a demonstration for how to use your toy,” he speaks softly, even though they’re alone. “Not only because it’s in my job to know how to use these things and to pass on zhe knowledge, but also because… vell, to be frank, I’m very interested. In you.”

 

"Oh," Misha says, looking down in embarrassment. He hadn't expected the doctor to be so forward like this. It's kind of nice, knowing this attractive older man wants to have sex with him. It's also a little overwhelming. "You do not think it’s too soon?" he asks sheepishly.

 

“ _I_ don’t, no,” Erik folds his hands behind his back with a wily smile. “Vhether ve go home tonight together or separate is entirely up to you.”

 

"I have never... Have not been with a man before," Misha says, shuffling his feet. "I want to. Have found you attractive since first time I ran out of store. But do not know how to... you know."

 

Erik’s smile broadens. “I saw you, you know. Zhe first time you ran out. And zhe second. I thought the first time you’d taken a wrong turn and you vere embarrassed but vhen I saw you zhe second time… I knew you’d be back again. It vas only a matter of time.”

 

He takes one of Misha’s giant hands in both of his and looks him in the eye. He feels a rush of emotion for this young man. He’s so large and intimidating, but at the same time and inexplicably, he’s so small and frightened. Erik has the all-consuming powerful urge to both shelter this boy and destroy him.

 

"You really want to? With me?" Misha asks, breaking eye contact to look at their joined hands. His looks so large compared to the doctor's. But he can feel the strength in the other man's grip. "Even though I look like this?"

 

Erik’s head cocks slightly. “Look like vhat?” he asks with a little laugh. “Are you secretly a human sleeve piloted entirely by rodents or something?”

 

Misha smiles a little sadly. "No. I am too big. Tall and broad and fat. My head is too small and my hands are too big. I will probably break bed when I sit on it I am so heavy. You are beautiful man and I am not. Why do you want me?"

 

“Misha,” Erik gasps, a little appalled. He’d wrongfully assumed that just because Misha was bigger than everyone and stronger than everyone, that he’d be confident. Obviously, not with the concept of his own sexuality, but surely he must have at least understood how very handsome he is.

 

It occurs to him now just how gentle this man is. Despite wanting to create guns for the military, inwardly he’s nothing but an insecure child. It strikes him also how very young Misha is, how inexperienced and unworldly he is. He’s at once a monolith and a field mouse.

 

“Misha,” he says again, this time his tone is smoother as he reaches to take Misha’s chin and force him to make eye contact. “I have _alvays_ been attracted to men larger zhan myself. Zhe bigger zhe man, zhe more likely I am to vant to jump his bones. Zhe more muscle, fat or hair on his body, zhe more beautiful he is. Zhis has alvays been an irrefutable truth for myself, so stop moping, ja?”

 

"I do not want to top," Misha says, suddenly nervous that that's what Erik is looking for. He probably likes big men because they have large penises for him to enjoy and that's not what Misha wants. He wants a man to take charge of him, to take care of him, to make love to him. Not a man he has to worry about breaking.

 

Erik’s expression melts into shock, and then delight as his grin spreads wider than it has all night. “You’re serious?” he asks, almost shaking Misha’s hand in his with mirth. “You’re serious! Oh, Misha, you’re an angel sent to me by Gott himself.”

 

He steps up closer to the slightly taller man and pulls him into an embrace, wrapping his arms around his neck. “Every man I’ve ever been attracted to, every man like yourself has alvays had such an ego, such a temper, and zhey vere all so insecure in zheir own masculinity, zhey expected me to bend over for zhem just because I’m smaller, as if I’m not zhe resident expert on sex! I only did because I was certain zhey vould valk out if I didn’t, and usually any sex is better zhan no sex.”

 

Ee talks rapidly, his cheeks glowing pink and he cups Misha’s cheeks. “But my natural place has alvays been at zhe top, I just resigned to believe I vould never find my dream man – one who is both twice my size _and_ will bend to me.”

 

Misha's cheeks burn with embarrassment and delight. To be Erik's dream man, to be anyone's dream man, and make him as happy as he is now is all Misha could have ever wanted.

 

"Then we should make good pair," Misha says happily. "I do not want to top. Have never wanted to. That is why I buy toy, could not find someone who wanted to... do that to me. All thought I was too big."

 

“’Do zhat’ oh, Misha, come on, you’re not a middle-schooler. You can say it,” Erik encourages, licking his lips.

 

"Do not know German word," Misha admits shyly. "Never learned it. Only know it in Russian."

 

“Zhen tell me in Russian,” Erik says, taking Misha’s hands and wrapping them tighter around his hips from where they’d been awkwardly, barely grazing his body. “I vant to hear it, even if I can’t understand it.”

 

Misha leans forward bending down to bring his lips close to Erik's ear and whispers softly, "Я хочу, чтобы вы ебали меня."

 

When Erik shivers from head to toe, it isn’t because of the cool night breeze. His nails sig into Misha’s shoulders and his toes curl in his shoes and he feels his whole body wake up with energy like a static charge.

 

===

 

Misha doesn’t have time to appreciate the pleasant, minimalist décor of Erik’s living room at first. He’s shoved up against the wall the instant they’re inside the door, the light isn’t even turned on before he’s consumed in a tonsils-deep kiss. He’s shocked by the strength of the other man as his hands grab Misha by the belt loops and yank his hips forward against his own.

 

He growls into Misha’s mouth, shivering and satisfied at how utterly submissive and compliant he is.

 

Misha can feel himself growing hard already. No one has ever manhandled him like this. No one has ever been so aggressive and in charge before and he loves it. He wants to feel like this all the time, wanted, needed, commanded. It's perfect.

 

Except he doesn't know what to do with his hands. Holding the doctor's hips or face seems too possessive but grabbing his shoulders feels like he should be pushing him away. But he has to do something, he needs something to hang on to while the doctor takes his breath away.

 

He settles for grabbing at the shopkeeper's finely pressed shirt under his sweater, untucking it a little from his pants in his haste to grab a few handfuls of the expensive fabric.

 

Erik grabs Misha by the back of the neck and licks between his teeth, tickling the roof of his mouth as he yanks the younger man’s belt open one-handed. He wedges his knee between Misha’s legs and presses up tight against his balls, grinding their hips together with a throaty groan.

 

He hastily picks apart a few of Misha’s buttons before spreading his hands beneath his dress shirt, growling when his hands meet the cotton of a thin undershirt instead of skin. He pulls up the white shirt and then moans into Misha’s lips when he sinks his fingers into hard muscle and soft fat, grabbing and pulling at his body, fisting his belly hair gently and thrusting against his thigh like a horny dog.

 

“Mein Gott,” he pants, mouthing wetly at Misha’s neck. “Your body is _perfect._ ”

 

Misha whimpers, tilting his head up to give Erik more room. He's never been called perfect before. Not by anyone, not even his family has ever called him anything like perfect before. If Erik keeps saying things like that he'll have Misha on his knees begging for more in no time.

 

"You are perfect. And beautiful. So beautiful, is scary how beautiful," he responds, eyes closing as Erik sucks a mark onto his throat.

 

“Shut up,” Erik growls. He pulls down Misha’s zipper like it personally offended him and jams a hand down into his jeans to feel for how hard he is. He suspected he would find a good deal of blood already flown south for the ecounter, but he didn’t expect to feel just how _large_ Misha’s penis is.

 

He gives a little tremor of laughter, pressing more kisses into his throat, privately thanking the gods that Misha wants to be fucked instead of the reverse. He continues to massage his prick, encouraging more blood to fill it up, stroking the length of it trapped within the big man’s boxers.

 

“Shall ve adjourn to zhe bedroom?” he pants into Misha’s ear.

 

"Da," Misha says, nodding furiously. He's so hard it's almost painful. He wants to be naked, wants to be stripped down to nothing and bent over so Erik can have his way with him. He needs it.

 

Erik gives him another squeeze before pulling his hand out of his pants to lead Misha down the hall to the waiting bedroom and he flicks a switch that illuminates a wall-mounted lamp. Inside is a king sized bed, richly adorned in what looks to be a very expensive sheet and comforter set.

 

Misha doesn't have much time to admire it though, before Erik is on him again, pulling roughly at his clothes as if they've suddenly caught fire and need to be removed _now_. He immediately acquiesces, tossing aside his shirt and undershirt before he’s thrown bodily to the bed by two strong hands on his chest.

 

He has no idea where this strength is coming from. Erik looked like such a small man – but maybe he’s not so small. Misha views everyone, automatically as small just because he’s so large. He’s really looking at him now, in the low light of the lamp beside his bed, and he sees just how broad his shoulders are, how sturdy his hands (how long his fingers), he sees the thick tendons in his neck and when Erik pulls off his sweater, he sees the bulge of his biceps underneath his pressed dress shirt.

 

He's even more beautiful like this, Misha thinks. He was beautiful before but now that he can see the strength and power he possesses he's even more perfect. He can truly give Misha everything he wants and needs, Misha is sure of it.

 

His eyes travel down to the slight pudge that hangs over Erik's belt, perfectly normal in a man starting to edge towards 40 years old, and he can't help but think how nice it'll be to nibble at before sucking Erik off when he goes down on his knees for him.

 

Erik untucks the rest of his shirt and untbuttons it, tossing it aside in the same direction Misha’s piled in. He watches the younger man lick his lips as he regards his body, covered in a generous layer of hair, a little soft around the waist, but with arms that rival some of the men Misha goes to school with who spend all their free time lifting weights. His muscle is a thick, solid kind that comes with years of natural labor, rather than perfectly sculpted like a man who spends hours focusing on how they look.

 

He crawls over Misha and starts to kiss his way down his chest, taking handfuls of his soft, perfect belly and groaning as his fingers sink into the flesh. His cock stirs in his slacks as his imagination runs away and he pictures holding onto Misha’s belly like an anchor while he fucks him on his back, or watching it press out and flatten if he fucked the younger man on his belly, or what it might look like if he were on hands and knees, if it might sway or if he could see it from between his legs.

 

Moaning loudly, he ruts against Misha’s thigh with abandon as he closes his lips around the young man’s pebbled nipple.

 

Misha gives a yelp and jumps a little at the sudden wet heat engulfing his nipple. It feels amazing. Erik teases him with his tongue, circling the pebbled flesh or flattening the slick muscle against it before tightening his lips and sucking in a way that makes Misha shiver from head to toe. He had no idea his nipples could be so sensitive. Mostly he didn't pay them any mind but after tonight he'll have to rethink that. This feels better than masturbating usually does.

 

"Never knew this could feel so good," he groans throatily.

 

“Zhat’s because you’re a sweet little backwoods virgin boy,” Erik says with a smile as he pats Misha’s cheek. “Let’s get zhat toy demonstration under vay now, shall ve?” he swings off of Misha’s lap and fetches the plastic bag that Misha dropped in the hall.

 

He slips a pair of batteries into the thing on his way through the kitchen and returns to the bedroom to find Misha tugging experimentally at his own nipple.

 

“I take it you’ve never experienced nipple play,” Erik says with a fond, albeit lecherous smile from the doorway, turning the vibrator over and over in his hands.

 

"N-no. But is so good. Never want to stop," Misha admits, giving the bud another light tug and moaning. He lifts his head to look up at Erik and sees the vibrator in his hands. "Ah. Is time now? How do you want me?"

 

“Just stay like you are. You’ll hear my instruction better on your back, and I vant to vatch your face,” Erik says. “Now, zhe first thing you need vhen embarking on an evening of pleasure is plenty of lube. Zhis toy has eight inches of insertable length, with a six inch girth, and it’s got a soft sleeve of silicone over zhe mechanics inside zhat make it buzz.”

 

He holds up a bottle of clear lube in the other hand, with an orange label. “Zhis vill make your backside smell – and taste for zhat matter – like a chocolate orange. If zhat bothers you I could supply mint, or strawberry, or vanilla. Zhis just happens to be my favorite.”

 

"Whatever you want. You are teacher here." Misha says. He really doesn't care about the taste or smell. It's not like he'll really notice it much. It's more for Erik's pleasure than his own.

 

“Excellent,” Erik says hastily, climbing once more onto the bed. He uncaps the lube and squeezes a generous portion onto his fingers. “Of course, you’ll vant to stretch yourself out first or you could hurt yourself. You have fingered yourself before, I trust?”

 

"Da, I have. A little," Misha admits. "You want me to do it? You do not want to?"

 

Erik gives a short, nasally laugh, but doesn’t grace him with a response otherwise. “You look like you can handle two right away,” he comments as Misha peels off his jeans and underwear.

 

The older man takes a moment to look over his conquest, shivering with delight. He never thought he’d have such a mountainous, bear of a man lying spread-eagled willingly for him. He licks his lips and starts to massage the lube into the pucker of the man’s backside, smoothing his other hand down Misha’s belly.

 

Misha groans and spreads his legs to give Erik better access. He's never been touched like this by anyone else before and it's a little odd, not to have control over what's coming next. But that only makes it better. Every sensation is a surprise and he only needs to react, not think about what should be done next.

 

When Erik’s fingers sink into his body, Misha gives a shout that pools hotly in the older man’s gut. His belly twists up in white-hot knots as he screws his fingers into the Russian, thrusting with ease right away. Misha opens up in a way that betrays just how often he touches himself like this, and he’s rocking his hips down on Erik’s fingers within seconds.

 

Two fingers turns into three, stretching Misha wide – no wider than he’s ever accomplished with his own fingers, but just the fact that it’s someone else’s digits inside him makes the sensations one thousand times better.

 

“Once you’re properly prepared,” Erik says, a little hoarsely in the face of such raw beauty. “Zhen you can either cover zhe toy with a condom, or you can insert it just as it is, either vay you need to be certain to apply more lubricant. For our purposes, I’m going to use it vithout a condom, so zhat later I can show you zhe proper vay to clean it.”

 

Misha whimpers and nods to show he understands, not trusting his voice anymore. He's so hot already he's pretty sure it won't take much for him to come. Luckily he's still young so it won't take long for him to be ready to go again anyway.

 

He watches Erik lubing up the dildo before he lowers it out of sight. Seconds later he feels the press of silicone against his hole, pressing against the stretched flesh. Erik isn't pushing it in yet, just teasing him a little, driving him mad.

 

When it slides into him, his whole body goes taut like a bow. His toes point and his mouth opens and his body forms a straight line from the tip of his toes to the arch of his neck.

 

Erik presses it in a few inches before pulling it back slightly, and then he pushes it in deeper again. He works it this way, in and out, until finally it’s seated to the flared root, designed to keep the toy from slipping all the way inside.

 

“Und now,” Erik says with a gleam in his eye. He flips the switch, turning the toy on the low setting.

 

Misha practically screams. The setting is low but Misha has never felt anything like this before. The vibrator buzzes inside him, teasing his sensitive inner walls and the bundle of nerves that sends spikes of pleasure rocketing through his body.

 

"ERIK! Ahhh please.... is too much! Please...!" he begs, not sure he can handle this. He hadn't expected the vibrations to feel so good.

 

Erik instantly shuts it off. “A little oversensitive?” he asks with a laugh. “Do you vant me to stop?”

 

"Am going too... going to come too soon." Misha gasps, still shaking a little. "Told you, have never done this before. Did not expect it to feel like that."

 

“You didn’t answer my question,” Erik smiles perversely, tugging gently on Misha’s nipple to keep him from dazing.

 

Misha moans and arches his back off the bed again. "No. Do not want you to stop. Am just... am embarrassed. Do not want to come too soon."

 

“If you come, ve’ll just get you hard again,” Erik says, and this time, he turns the switch to high.

 

Misha does scream this time. Before was nothing compared to this. This is whole new levels of toe-curling, jaw-dropping bliss. His eyes squeeze and one quick tug to his other nipple has Misha tumbling over the edge, shouting out his orgasm as pleasure wracks his body.

 

Erik twists the vibrator as he watches Misha convulse, his big hands pawing at the sheets, his feet lifting off the covers and tapping against them just barely, jets of semen shooting up over his pillowy belly, his face turning red and veins sticking out in his neck. His own cock gives a needy throb as he thrusts it and thrusts it until he wrings the last possible instant of pleasure out of Misha, before he’s begging for relief from the over stimulation.

 

“Roll over on your stomach, please,” Erik requests after he’s turned off and slipped out the vibrator. He pats Misha’s thigh to get him moving when the foggy-headed giant fails to obey after a few moments.

 

Misha groans and forces himself to roll over. It's hardly a graceful move, rather reminiscent of a lazy sea lion, but soon he's spread eagle on his stomach, exposing his back to the older man as requested. With a little coaching, he drags himself higher up on the bed and cradles one of the downy pillows to him for comfort.

 

“Ah, vhat musculature,” Erik groans contentedly, smoothing his palms down Misha’s slightly fuzzy back. His spine is a deep groove between titanic, rock-solid shoulders, and his latissimus dorsi are toned, but his obliques are cushioned with fat and soft under Erik’s hands. His bottom is small relative to the rest of his body, with those little dimples directly above it that drive the older man wild.

 

He follows the same path as before, this time lightly with his fingernails, to wake up Misha’s lethargic nerves again. “Come now, I’m not done vith you,” he tells the younger man and starts to kiss down the groove of his spine. He kisses lower and lower, and doesn’t slow down for a moment as the scent of chocolate orange gets stronger, until he surprises Misha with a kiss right to his sensitive, worked-open hole.

 

"Ah!" Misha gives a little cry, pushing himself up on his elbows so he can look over his shoulder in surprise. "Erik, is this okay? Does not seem sanitary." He had washed well before coming here, cleaned inside and out but still. That didn't seem like the place one put their mouth. Even if it did feel good.

 

“I von’t do it if you don’t vant me to,” Erik licks his lips and kisses the juncture of Misha’s thigh and his backside. “But I told you it’s my favorite flavor.”

 

"I do not mind. Felt good. Was just worried about you. Do not want you to do it because I will like it if you do not want to," Misha babbles, tripping over his words to try to make himself understood. If Erik wants to keep doing that he isn't going to stop him.

 

“Such a considerate lover,” Erik chuckles. “But don’t vorry. I’ve alvays wanted to rim someone twice my size and vatch him fall to pieces.”

 

He doesn’t stall for a moment longer before he seals his mouth over Misha. He licks him and sucks him, nips and blows and kisses down his perineum. He has the other man completely insensate to the rest of the world, writhing and barking and shaking.

 

It's better than Misha could have imagined. He's heard about this kind of thing and watched it in porn but he'd always assumed those guys were exaggerating. Now he can see they weren't. This feels amazing. Erik kissing and sucking at the stretched muscle, licking him open and teasing his already sensitive flesh is too good.

 

He grabs on to a pillow to bite in to, hoping to muffle his shameful groans and cries. Erik already had him shouting before, he doesn't want him to think of him as some kind of noisy slut.

 

Erik spreads Misha’s cheeks and really fucks him deep with his tongue, grinding into him and tasting for every trace of the sweet lube, mixed with the salt of Misha’s body. He slides his tongue in and out, until he has Misha humping the bed in desperation.

 

He slips a couple fingers inside beside his tongue, wiggling them around and purposefully stimulating Misha’s prostate as he works, out of breath and so desperately horny.

 

By now Misha is half way back to being fully erect again and is biting the pillow hard enough to tear it. He feels so good, so much better than he had imagined or hoped for. He's never been able to make himself feel this way and he's sure a few more rounds of this and he'll be completely addicted to the feeling.

 

"Let go of zhe pillow," he hears Erik order as he pulls away to blow gently on Misha's slick hole, watching it twitch under clench, as if trying to draw him back in. "I vant to hear you."

 

With a whimper Misha does as he's told, unclenching his jaw and turning his head on the pillow so Erik can hear him groaning and panting. "Am sorry. Did not want to be too loud."

 

“No such thing,” Erik promises him. “Do you vant me to fuck you now?”

 

"Da!" Misha exclaims. "Please. Is that the word? Please fuck me Erik, please."

 

Erik groans at the sound of the request tumbling clumsily through Misha’s deep voice. He grabs for more lube, seeing that he’d effectively licked up all the rest, and quickly slicks Misha again.

 

“I may not even be able to satisfy you after you had such a large vibrator inside you,” Erik gives a bitter little chuckle as he opens his slacks and fishes out his cock.

 

Misha instantly turns to look over his shoulder. Erik certainly isn’t as large as the toy, but few people are. Nevertheless his cock is thick and long and straight as an arrow. He quickly kicks out of his pants and underwear, leaving him only in a pair of black socks held up by sock garters. He slips a red condom over his dick and applies just a dollop of extra lube for good luck.

 

“Roll onto your back again please,” the older man commands.

 

Misha does as he's told, more energetic now. He's careful not to accidentally kick Erik as he turns to face the man. He looks up at where the older man is standing at the end of the bed and spreads his legs to allow him to crawl between them. He can hardly breathe at the sight of the man in front of him. He's even more beautiful naked and commanding, ready to take Misha here and now.

 

It probably would have been polite to ask if he was ready.

 

Misha can’t make a sound as the older man sinks into him. His cock is so much softer than the silicone, and a thousand times hotter. Like his skin is filled with molten lava, boiling in his muscles and his veins. Every inch of him sinks into Misha like a white-hot sword without a single ripple of resistance.

 

Erik barely makes a sound. He gives a loud exhale through his nose and closes his eyes to recapture his bearings. When he opens his eyes, his pupils have gone wide with exhilaration, and he starts to thrust.

 

Misha on the other hand can't seem to hold his noises back. He groans and moans and whimpers as every inch of Erik sinks further into him and cries out as he begins to thrust into his body. It's different from the shallow thrusts of the vibrator from earlier. These are deep, strong thrusts that seem to scorch a path through his body until they reach his core, setting him on fire in the best way.

 

He clenches around Erik as he gives a particularly harsh thrust, not painfully so but enough to knock the breath out of him, and hears the other man gasp. It seems like a good thing so he tries it again.

 

Erik spreads his hands on Misha’s chest as he fucks into him, his groans growing louder by the second. He hangs his head with an especially loud moan when Misha’s legs wrap around his waist.

 

This is everything he’s ever wanted. He has a bear all his own who actually _wants_ to be fucked. He’s dizzy with disbelief, he can’t believe he could be so lucky. God bless sweet inexperienced men buying sex toys without the faintest idea what they’re doing.

 

When Misha starts to unconsciously beg for more, deeper, Erik pulls out of him and flips him over onto his hands and knees. He doesn’t wait an instant before pounding right back into him, pulling back on his hips to double the power as he literally shakes apart the man under him.

 

Misha is practically crying now with how good it is. He can barely think anymore, it's so good. The pleasure is whiting out everything else in his mind, leaving behind only the need for more, deeper, harder. He needs to be fucked into the mattress. And he knows all of these things are pouring out of his mouth in broken German and Russian but he can't seem to stem the tide. That would require too much willpower and right now he's using all he's got to keep from coming.

 

But it doesn’t last for long. His orgasm is soul-shattering, his shout is ceiling-rattling, and he doesn’t realize until he’s coming to a few seconds later that he passed out.

 

In the few seconds he was out, Erik took to spending himself with a few messily executed thrusts, and he’s still grinding deep into the younger man on the very outskirts of his own orgasm, leaned out over him with his head on his shoulder, panting loudly.

 

Misha comes back to himself slowly, the post-orgasmic haze lasting longer than it does when he masturbates. He supposes it's because his orgasm was just so much _better_ this time, of course the effects are going to last longer.

 

He can feel Erik slumped over his back, still rolling his hips and grinding into Misha's oversensitive body.

 

"You are awake?" he ventures softly.

 

“Ja,” Erik pants, kissing Misha’s neck. “I just – ”

 

There’s a sudden, strange, fluttering sound and the older man grunts on top of his younger lover. Misha is too flattened to look and see what happened, but he hears the older man turn his head and shout “Archimedes! Get off!”

 

"Archimedes?" Misha asks, thinking Erik must have a dog or cat or something.

 

He isn't prepared for the snowy white dove that lands on his shoulder a few seconds later.

 

Erik is loudly cursing as he pulls out of the other man in a hurry and ties off the condom, tossing it in the garbage. He claps his hands and holds out his arm, and the bird lifts off of Misha’s shoulder to land on Erik’s wrist.

 

“I’m sorry, he gets jealous,” the older man huffs at the bird and jerks his arm upward to try and encourage the bird to take flight and leave the room, but it only circles the room once before landing on top of Erik’s head and flapping wildly to try to keep its perch.

 

"Is okay. I like birds." Misha says, smiling as he rolls over onto his back. He's a little tender right now and can't help wincing as he settles back down. The smile fades a moment later. "Do you want me to leave? I do not expect to stay over first night. I will understand if you kick me out."

 

“You’re not going anywhere,” Erik says defiantly, grabbing the bird by the body and lifting him off his head before setting him upside down in his arms. Surprisingly, the dove stays put, feet straight up in the air, cooing gently. “You’re staying zhe night and zhen ve’ll have breakfast and I’ll walk you to school as far as my shop.” As he talks, he strokes Archimede’s downy belly and crawls back up on the bed until he’s sitting cross-legged beside Misha. “And zhen I’ll probably text you, and I’ll try to talk myself out of asking you out on two dates in two nights because zhat’s a little excessive, no matter how much I like you.”

 

"Have too much homework. Can not do two dates in two nights. But maybe, this weekend?" Misha asks carefully, hoping he isn't asking for too much.

 

“Zhis veekend,” Erik repeats, and leans down to kiss Misha gently.

 

In the morning, Erik cooks them eggs, and Misha finds out that Archimedes is actually one dove out of twelve. Erik has to promise him three times that he’s cooking _chicken_ eggs.

 

“How do you know which is Archimedes?” Misha asks when two doves land on his shoulders at the table.

 

Erik gives a laugh. “Oh, please, I can’t tell zhem apart. Zhey’re all Archimedes.”

 

He teaches Misha how to slip the lavender silicone sleeve off the slender black vibrator and how to wash it, with warm soapy water, and the correct way to dry it before putting it away. Then they dress, and walk together in the cool morning air. Kissing Misha good bye in front of the shop makes the older man feel so… normal.

  
Everything is so domestic right now. Misha thinks he’s perfect, probably. Soon the monotony of a relationship will sink in as they learn about one another’s demons. Erik can’t wait for Misha to find out about his blood kink. No two people have ever reacted the same way. That’s the part that thrills him, he thinks as he watches Misha disappear around the corner before he unlocks his shop and steps inside. He misses being in a real relationship, with all of the ins and outs and ups and downs, with all of the gut-twisting roller coaster emotions, the shouting and the making up.

 

He already has a text when he turns on all the lights and steps behind his desk.

 

_Will see you this Friday? Monster movie is playing at cinema._

Erik grins. He’s picked a good one this time.


End file.
